


Edward and Elizabeth

by The_Fantasy_Novelist



Category: The Sunne in Splendour, The White Queen - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 13:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4748822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fantasy_Novelist/pseuds/The_Fantasy_Novelist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate story when Edward of York and Elizabeth Woodville meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edward and Elizabeth

From Elizabeth's perspective:

I was admiring the horses in the castle's stables, offering an apple to the handsomest horse, a white destrier, feeling his smooth mane and flank. Just then in my peripheral vision, I see a tall figure making his way towards the stable. A young nobleman too, not a stableboy or a squire from the look of his expensive clothing and I look around for a place to hide, suddenly ashamed of myself, the York's imprisoned squire's daughter, sneaking to see the horses.  
As he gets closer, I realise it is none other than the Duke of York's eldest son, Edward, the Earl of March himself, the handsome, young man who had led his men into battle against King Henry, the heir of a usurper. He would probably have seen me, an intruder and my heart sinks as I realise the only way I can escape is through the door in which I have just come through, the door through which he is coming through now. In this moment, I wish I were a tiny mouse, so I could squirm away without being noticed. But it would be too rude to just simply walk away ignoring him, I suppose I have no choice but to acknowledge his presence, I think in my head that I shall dip a tiny bow to him as he passes, keeping my head down low like a peasant, avoid meeting his gaze like a servant and he will not notice me. But he does notice me.  
"Lady Elizabeth Woodville", he calls out as I walk past, "what a pleasant surprise it is to see you here".  
I dip me head in a curtsey, avoiding his gaze, "I was just returning to the castle, good day to you, my lord", and I quickly scramble away, desperate to avoid the awkward encounter with the Duke of the House's son.  
   
I step lightly away from him and I notice his desperate urge to pull my arm back.  
"No, please don't leave, I don't think we have properly met". I feel a surge of bitterness towards him, of course we have met before, last time he had insulted my parents over their marriage and called my father a nobody.  
"Oh I'm certain we've met before" I say with bitterness. Like a frostbite, my coldness attacks his warmth and I regret saying it instantly when notice the pained look on his handsome face.  
And the next thing I know, he has bowed his head down to kiss my hand and could feel the softness of his lips brushing my smooth, white hand as if I were a noblewoman and his equal, deserving of his attention and acquaintance and not the eldest daughter of a squire. I am a tiny bit angry at his action, introducing himself and kissing my hand so politely, when he had made it known how much he as a York, despises us Lancastrians, Queen Margaret d'Anjou and anyone associated with her as my mother was her first lady at court. It also makes me angry when I realise perhaps he is just playing around with me and I shake away my admiration for his handsome looks when I realise how many pretty girls' hands he has kissed. He probably thinks of this as a funny joke, spoiled by his noble upbringing. I think to myself; I will not let him woo me, I will not fall for his heart-stopping good looks nor his chivalry as he is pretending to be now, as foolish girls aalways do fall for handsome boys and it always ends badly. Edward of York is notorious for seduction. I will treat him with coldness, show him no warmth and he will move on, treat him indifferently as if he were any other low-born commoner.  
I will not allow myself to fall for him.  
   
I do not have the courage to openly look at his face directly, I keep my eyes down and I know that my cheeks are probably burning hot with the intensity of his gaze. I allow my eyes a sneak look up, across his square jawline, his full lips, the highness of his cheekbones, the smoothness of his cheeks until I reach his eyes and I am surprised to see that there is no hint of hatred, as I had been expecting to see from the Earl who insulted my parents last time we had met, no sense of superiority he along with the Lord Warwick had shown to us Lancastrians, and I heave a sign of relief as I can see a hint of adoration, and perhaps compassion as he looks down upon my face so attentively. I know that I am probably blushing to death, my cheeks a bright, rosy pink, under the scrutiny of his gaze.  
"I see you've met Maximillian", he motions to the horse I had been admiring the moment before he came in and disturbed me. The huge war horse tosses his head at cue, as if it knew it was being mentioned.  
"Yes," I reply embarrassingly, so he had seen me stroking it, and my heart sinks as I realise that I have no chance to escape, I must respond to his inquiries when I wish I were in no other place but back in my meagre chambers in the east wing of the castle. "He is lovely, the best I've seen" .  
"He was given to me for my fifteenth birthday by my uncle, the Lord of Salisbury and I've had him ever since".  
I nod in reply, looking around for an escape.  
"Tell me Lady Elizabeth, have you ever rode a war horse before?"  
"No, my lord, I've only ever ridden ponies, when I was young, back at home, Grafton Manor," I blurt out and then I am suddenly ashamed of myself for revealing so much. Luckily, he laughs at this so pleasantly. He must have seen my eagerness, despite my desire to compose myself.  
"Then may I offer you a ride on my war horse, before you leave?"  
"A ride?" I stammer, shocked at his request, how could he, the son of the Duke of York stoop so low as to offer me, the daughter of a servant a ride on his horse. "I think it best I return to the castle now, my lord, my mother will be waiting for me".  
"Yes, a ride," he says confidently, "I am afraid I insist it".  
I simply have no choice but to comply to his wishes.  
"I don't think I can refuse a ride," I say with a smile this time, and he in return flashes me a smile, my heart skips a beat. He is dazzling.  
Edward of York carefully leads his horse out into the open and I follow behind him obediently, there is no opportunity to walk away now, I kick myself for what I have gotten myself in. I wish I could go back in time and never have sneaked away to see the horses. Despite myself, I am shaking in excitement, never have I had such a magnificent request.  
When the is reigns are placed on the horse, he turns to me, and instinctively I raise my arms as he gently lifts me off my feet and up onto his tall war horse. Then Edward easily mounts the horse and seconds later I realise that he is seated behind me, so intimately close with the Earl of March, I am shaking my head in disbelief, who would have ever thought the Duke of York's son and I would be fit so perfectly. He is so tall, my head is tucked comfortably under his chin .  
"Shall I unmount?" I say, embarrassed at the closeness of our proximity.  
"No", he shakes my offer off, then he reaches over and wraps his long arms around me, carefully placing his hands over my own hands on the reigns. And as his arms wrap around me, I instinctively lean back in his warm embrace, feeling the hardness and strength of his chest against my soft back. He is so close, I can smell his body, sweat, salt and the soapy smell of his neck.  
   
 From Edward's perspective:  
She fits so perfectly in my arms, her gorgeous fair hair blowing in the wind and I can smell her delicious lavender scent. I have to force myself not to nuzzle her ear and bury my head in her hair.  
I kick Maximillian into a faster cant, to give myself the excuse to hold her slim waist. I can hear her melodic laugh, her delighted giggles.  
After a ride round the fields, I slow down to a soft canter, and I unmount before lifting her off Maximilian, stopping to admire the beauty of her features. Her face is flushed with the excitement of the ride and she doesn't address me with the cold, embarrassed manner anymore but now she is totally carefree, as it we had known each other for our entire lives.  
"For the ride, may you do me a favour, Lady Elizabeth?"  
"A favour?", she is suddenly stunned again.  
"Yes," I say, "That from now on, you consider me your friend and refer to me as Edward. I would want nothing more".  
"My lord, you know you can't be my friend".  
"Edward" I correct her.  
"Edward" she says back, feeling the sound of my name on her tongue, her lips curving up at the edges of her beautiful heart-shaped mouth and I cannot resist the temptation to press my lips against her own soft lips.  
"For my friendship with you, Elizabeth". 

From Elizabeth's perspective:   
I admire his tall, powerfully-built figure as he rides away, such a commanding sight. As if he could feel my gaze, Edward looks back at the stables and when he sees me still standing there, he gives me a salute and I cannot help but give him a girlish wave in reply. I have been absolutely charmed and I run back to the castle, flushed with delight.

**Author's Note:**

> Please kudos if you enjoy my writing.
> 
> Please comment if you are in the mood as my desire to post a continuation of story depends on readers' comments.


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